


Big

by charivari



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Deepthroating, Hand Jobs, M/M, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Wall Sex, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 06:21:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4511184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charivari/pseuds/charivari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fortress Maximus/Jetfire. Garrus-9/Pre-Spotlight: Arcee</p>
            </blockquote>





	Big

Fort Max felt the tip of his spike hit the back of Jetfire's intake. Massive servos that had been skirting along the jet's wing tips clenched down as a surge of charge rippled through Fort Max's frame.

Jetfire's EM field flared in pain. Fort Max hurriedly unclenched his fingers.

::Careful,:: Jetfire said, mouth still lodged around Fort Max's spike.

The position made it hard for Max to focus. He stroked the slight indentation left by his fingers. If Jetfire had been a smaller mech, the damage might have been far more severe.

::My apologies,:: he told Jetfire, his voice steadier over the comm than his flurry of EM field, ::I sometimes forget my own strength.::

::Understandable.:: Jetfire replied, seeming to hold no grudge.

He worked his mouth off Fort Max's spike only to take it in again. Once again Fort Max felt the back of his intake. This time he braced his servos against the wall behind Jetfire, resisting the urge to grind forward. He didn't want to dent Jetfire's intake like he had his wings.

The scientist's hands dug into the seams of Max's hips as he continued to deep throat him. Fort Max remained trembling in place, acutely aware of each vibration, each shift of Jetfire's mouth. The swirl of his glossa, the swirl of oral fluid, which leaked from the corners of Jetfire's mouth as he steadily worked Max into overload.

Fort Max filled his mouth to the brim with a howl. Fingers clawing the wall. He shuddered as Jetfire eased his mouth from his spike, splattering transfluid on the floor.

He glanced up at Fort Max with a small sticky smile.

::Well, warden, we've certainly made a mess.::

Fort Max gave a shaky nod. It was a mess. One that needed to be cleaned promptly. But his attention was on Jetfire, the barely concealed discomfort in his EM field, from lack of release.

::We're not done yet.::

He heaved the jet off his knees. His mouth came to press against his audial, lavishing kisses that he might have given Jetfire's mouth if not for the traces of his transfluid. Max was particular about tasting his own fluids.

Jetfire keeled. Max shifted his attention to his neck cables, plucking them with his dentae. Jetfire's EM field flared with approval. The scientist didn't seem to mind his cables being treated more roughly than his wings.

Nor did he mind the rough probe of Fort Max's fingers along the outline of his array, feeling the build-up of heat.

::Open up,:: the warden ordered.

Jetfire complied with a small shiver. He freed his spike, a similiar girth and length to Fort Max albeit with Jetfire's distinct coloration. The scientist gave a pleasing gasp as Fort Max worked his fingers around it, appreciating it's size.

Interfacing a mech of his stature was a rarity. Perhaps the reason that Fort Max had been drawn into this secret arrangement with the jet in the first place. The fact they could accomodate each other, regardless of who spiked who.

In this instance, Jetfire.

Fort Max shifted himself back against the wall, Jetfire moving in sync, spike still encircled by Max's fingers. He used his hold to manouver the tip to his waiting valve, widening his stance for better stabilisation.

Then he leased control to Jetfire, allowed the jet to sink himself into his valve. He did so slowly. Fort Max wasn't sure if his pace came from personal preference or his past encounters with smaller lovers.

Still Fort Max found it pleasurable, feeling his spike slowly push through his series of callipers.

::I'm not hurting you am I?:: Jetfire said, spike half impaled in Max.

::Not at all,:: Fort Max answered, ::Proceed.::

Jetfire complied, working himself fully into Fort Max. It was a glorious feeling, of utter fullness. Max's helm tipped back and he moaned appreciatively.

The scientist's hand grasped his thigh, lifting it to his hip and using the position to push even deeper inside him. Max's approval was loud, louder than he expected and his faceplates flushed with heat.

::Don't be embarrassed, warden,:: Jetfire's tone was gentle, reassuring.

His frame pressed against Fort Max's as he fell into a steady rhythm, one that echoed his oral ministrations. His mouth caressed Fort Max's audial fin, filling it with soft moans. Fort Max's hands snuck to the outline of his wings, toying with them as carefully as he could despite the distraction of pleasure writhing at his core.

::Do you like that?::

::Oh yes.:: Jetfire answered blissfully.

Encouraged Fort Max continued his ministrations. That was until the charge coursing through his frame compromised his ability to touch Jetfire delicately and he latched onto his sturdier hips, trying to pitch them forward, quicken Jetfire's pace.  The jet complied, arm still lifting Max's heavy leg as he thrust inside the warden's valve, rough and deep, sending Fort Max spiralling into overload. 

It seared through Fort Max's circuits, just as sweet and satisfying as the last, callipers squeezing Jetfire's spike, inducing the first warm spurt of transfluid. Max sagged, limp and content as Jetfire shuddered against him, until the final drop of transfluid coated his inner walls.

Jetfire gently lowered Fort Max's leg and embraced him for a moment, Max's hands still digging into the seams of his hips. Once Fort Max regained a little strength, they shifted to Jetfire's wings, thumbing the edges. Jetfire gave a contented ex-vent, his helm tucked into the nook of Fort Max's neck.

After a prolonged moment of serenity, they moved apart. Jetfire withdrawing from his valve caused more transfluid to leak down onto the floor, mingling with Fort Max's.

::Sorry.:: Jetfire said.

::It was already a mess.:: Fort Max reminded him.

Jetfire gave him a sweet smile.

"Thank you," he said aloud.

He wasn't referring to the mess. Fort Max knew this. Despite his gruff exterior, he was touched.

"Likewise," he replied.

Everything else remained unspoken as Fort Max indicated the entrance to his personal washrack. He let Jetfire make use of it first, making no move to join him. Fort Max preferred privacy when it came to personal hygiene. It stemmed from the unpleasantness of sharing public washracks with smaller mecha. Namely the ones who stood as tall as his interface array.

He had no such problem with Jetfire. But Fort Max was a creature of habit.

Jetfire returned momentarily, spotlessly clean.

"I should return to my work," he said, voice tinged with apology.

"Of course," Fort Max said.

He didn't begrudge Jetfire returning to his work. It was crucial he did so. The sooner he finished his work with the Combiner, the sooner Fort Max could incarcerate them properly.

That also meant Jetfire would be reassigned elsewhere. But Fort Max wasn't so selfish as to consider his needs above the safety of his prison. The current situation made them a potential target for Decepticons.

Jetfire said himself, the project would take time. Something that troubled Fort Max considering the safety risk.

But it also meant he could continue this arrangement with the scientist for a little while longer.

With that in mind, Fort Max made his way to the washracks to clean up before his shift resumed.


End file.
